“Every time I try, something goes wrong. What if that’s fate or destiny or something telling me I shouldn’t go? Telling me Ordinary needs me to stay, to put out the fires, to keep the town going forward?
“What if I’m not here to save someone? I don’t think… I’d never forgive myself if something happened.”
The last came out a little quieter. I hadn’t meant to say it all. But it was good to have it out. I just wasn’t sure Than was the best counsel on matters like this. He was Death, after all, and dying couldn’t possibly bother him as much as it bothered me.
“Is that all, Reed Daughter?” He’d lowered his voice to match mine, his words soft and sanded, smooth and inviting.
“I’m not being a martyr about this. I want to go. But is now the right time? Is now the best time?”
The silence would have been complete, but wind-driven rain shucked down the windows like carwash jets on full blast.
“Delaney.”
I held my breath a moment, then, finally, turned.
Than stood in the doorway to the back room, his hands folded in front of him.
“You are worried about Ordinary?”
No, I wanted to say.
“Yes.”
“You are worried you will not be here to… save someone from… something?”
I shrugged. When he put it that way, it sounded kind of dumb.
“A lot of people have been hurt. Some have died,” I said.
He shifted, just slightly, like a hunter scenting prey. “So this is about trust.”
“No.” But maybe it was. Trusting my town to look after itself without me. Trusting my gut to make a selfish choice for myself alone and sticking to it.
“Ordinary is what I am. I don’t do…” I waved at the windows, at the world beyond Ordinary’s borders. “…all that other life out there.”
He let the rain and wind fill the space between us, his vision cast over my shoulder, out into that storm, out into that raging world.
“What does your heart tell you?” he asked. Still not looking at me. Still entranced by the violent beauty raging around us.
“My stupid heart wants to be with Ryder no matter what. But I don’t even know what kind of person I am if I’m not working.”
“Ah.”
The rain washed across the window again. Gusts buffeted the little A-frame, which stood steady and strong.
There was something hypnotic about the storm, about the warmth and color of this little room, this hidden gem, floating safely here in the center of such fury and rage.
There was something hypnotic about the god before me too. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t twitched a finger, hadn’t blinked, but I could tell he was waiting for me to think this through. To come to a reasonable conclusion.
I thought there might be some kind of metaphor I was missing. Something about the darkest day still holding a tiny spark of warmth and light.
Something about friends being all one needed when facing a storm.
“These matters,” Than said, “are complicated. What solution will you apply?”
“Right now I’m just trying to put out fires so I can say yes. Really say yes without worrying about it.”
“Into that ‘other life out there’?”
